


Neon Evolution

by letssendacountrysomecupcakes



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Force-Feeding, self starvation, some fucked up shit, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letssendacountrysomecupcakes/pseuds/letssendacountrysomecupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> The Girl is 10 when the men come, with their masks and the guns that she wasn't allowed to touch yet.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neon Evolution

**Author's Note:**

> Because apparently I don't write anything but dustverse. Here's a short story I wrote for class. I might continue it, but that really depends on feedback and whether or not I have time and motivation (again, feedback)

The Girl is 10. The desert air is starting to cool down and Angel putters around the one room shack they’re staying in for the night. She fixes their sleeping bags and turns on the small lantern that cost them 20 cs before turning toward the doorway and dragging a large, thick board over it. The Girl had seen her doing this before, “To keep the Dracs away.”   
“Gram-” The Girl starts but Angel cuts her off.   
“I told you, child. Don’t call me that.”  
The shack shudders suddenly as something crashes into it. Another crash, and the board cracks. Angel unfreezes from where she’d been sitting, stands, and turns towards the door. Once more, something crashes into the makeshift door, and it collapses in on itself, shooting splinters across the room.   
A man walks in, clad in ruffles and a smile that sends shivers through The Girl. He’s bald, tall, and over all terrifying.  
“It doesn’t much matter what she calls you now, does it, Cyanide?” His tone is polite but Angel bristles and reaches for the gun that The Girl isn’t allowed to touch without Angel helping. The Girl doesn’t see it leave it’s resting place on Angel’s hip unless she might need to run, so she gets ready.   
“It’s Angel now, Korse. Why are you here?”   
Korse smiles and reaches for his gun, a brilliant white thing, so different from Angel’s purple and green splattered one. He pulls it out of a place The Girl hadn’t seen and responds,   
“To kill you, of course.”  
Angel advances on Korse. “Just like old times.” She nods to The Girl, the signal to run.  
The Girl ducks out the back of the shack but can’t leave Angel behind. She turns around and hides in the shadows to watch what happens only to see a blinding flash, not unlike those Angel had made with her gun before. This flash doesn’t come from Angel’s gun. The Girl suppresses a cry when Angel crumples to the ground.   
The Girl turns and runs. She runs until her entire body is on fire and her lungs have gone numb. She runs until she collapses on the cracked floor of the desert, unable to move anymore. It feels like she lays there for years, though in reality it’s only a few minutes before the sound of cycles envelops her and she’s lifted onto one of them.

***

The Girl’s ears are ringing, she’s got a massive headache, and she doesn’t want to open her eyes. There’s a voice sounding beside her, making it impossible for her to continue her sleep.  
“Kaitlyn, it is time for you to be awake and functioning.” Kaitlyn? That’s not right.   
The Girl opens her eyes to a clean-cut woman standing above her, smiling faintly.   
“You need to be awake and prepared for the day soon, Kaitlyn,” the woman repeats herself before turning toward the door. “Don’t forget to take your medication,” she continues, “and remember, Keep Smiling.”   
The Girl looks for the medication the woman mentioned. She knows better than to take something they give her, knows the consequences if she does. Knows she would turn into one of them, smiling and obeying and never having a thought of their own, only what the corporation shoves down their throats. She can’t find any pills, though. She really can’t find much of anything. The room is bare and white. It contains only the bed she woke up on, a white dresser she knows is filled with white clothes like the ones she’s wearing, and a door.   
She’s almost given up on finding and destroying the pills when some men wearing grotesque rubber vampire masks walk in. Angel called these Dracs. One is holding a pill and a little paper cup filled with water. When he holds them out to her she throws them down.   
“I’m not taking anything you give me!” The Girl shouts and backs away. She’s terrified of these things. The Drac shrugs and walks out, the others follow him. The Girl is relieved, but knows they’re not done. Angel told her what to do if she got captured. They’ve gone over everything she can think of, she knows they won’t just leave her alone. 

***

Three days have passed since The Girl was captured. She knows this with painful certainty. In the desert, days flow together. They don’t matter so much. In this building, people count the minutes. She doesn’t understand why they would need to fill their time with so many useless things just to count the time until they end.   
The “importance of punctuality” has been stressed to her the entire time she’s been here, and more so every time she ignores it. She ignores a lot of what they say. They seem increasingly frustrated with her, and she’s scared of what they might do to her if she doesn’t start listening, but she doesn’t care. Angel told her what kind of a place this is.   
She knows that they’re called Better Living Industries and that they took over after the world ended. She’s been told stories of fires and bombs, of a company that said they could help. Of a company that betrayed the trust they had gained slowly enough that they got away with it. She’s heard horror tales of torture, seen the look in Angel’s wise, old eyes as she remembered the screams of the people around her.  
The Girl is scared of what they’ll do to her, but she isn’t scared enough to just give up. She refuses to take their pills, she barely eats or drinks, she doesn’t sleep much anymore. She’s fairly sure everything’s drugged, but she can’t tell. Everything here smells so fake, so much of chemicals, that it’s impossible to tell if what she smells is in her food or just how the place is. She knows she has to get out soon. She’s starving, and sure she’ll go insane if she’s here much longer.   
The woman from the first day walks into the room. “The afternoon meal is here,” she smiles the same eerie smile as then and continues, “please try to eat this time. And don’t forget to take your medication.” The Girl flips her off. It’s a gesture Angel said she could use toward them but not anyone else. It’s become one of the only things she does here. She secretly hopes it’ll make them upset, but no one ever seems to notice it.   
This time, the woman’s smile gains a tight lipped quality. The Girl glares to hide her smirk. It’s not much of a reaction, but it’s something. It’s much better than the vacant eyes and smiles that constantly occupy the building. The woman walks out of the room, heading somewhere with purpose.   
The next morning, there’s someone in her room. She’s not too surprised, as it’s happened before, but there’s something off about this guy. He’s (she assumes it’s a he) not like one of the normal drones, he’s got a mask made of fabric with the company’s logo on it. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest over the normal white, instead of a suit. Angel had pointed these out as well, S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit drones. The Girl bites her lip and scans the room for anyone else.  
She starts, almost squeaking when Korse walks in. “I heard you’re not eating,” he sneers. “That can’t be very fun, we do have good food. Probably better than you’re used to.” He sounds perfectly calm, but there’s an underlying anger The Girl could use to her advantage.  
“I’d rather starve.”  
Korse looks a bit taken aback by this, but recovers quickly. His eyes narrow and he walks towards The Girl. “We can’t have that, can we?” He stops about a foot away from The Girl. “You’re going to start eating, or we’re going to force feed you.” He says it casually, like the most simple thing in the world. “Your meal is on it’s way. Don’t forget to take your medication.” He walks out, the ‘crow following.

***

The Girl has to get out. She doesn’t see any way, though. Her door is locked and guarded at all times, there are no windows, and even if she got out of the corporate building, she’d still be in the city, clad in color, and without transportation. She thinks it best to try something at night. Or it would be, if they didn’t switch out guards so much. As it is, she can’t get near the door without hearing the hum of blasters. She resigns herself to waiting for an opportunity to present itself, and running like hell.

***

The evening meal isn’t brought to her this time. The Girl’s brought to it. Dracs show up where the woman usually does, grab her, and drag her down the hall. She fights them hard. She’s never had to leave her room before. Her face gets red and she pushes and pulls on them, trying to get her arms out of their grip. She kicks a couple last times, then slumps in their arms, trying to get them to drop her to no avail.   
They turn into a room, white like the rest, with a table in the middle. Korse is standing behind it, and there’s a plate of food, a napkin with a small pill on it, and a glass of water. The Girl’s stomach betrays her by growling loudly, and Korse smiles.   
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he shrugs. “You can eat on your own, I’ll just be here, or I can shove a tube down your throat and you can eat that way. Your choice.”  
“Fuck you,” The Girl snarls and spits at his feet. He glares and takes a step forward.  
“The hard way it is, then,” Korse smirks, “You’re so much like your grandmother. Cyanide never budged either, and look where that got her?”   
The Girl flinches. “Fuck. You.” She backs up. “It’s Angel, you sick bastard!”  
Korse laughs, “Angel, indeed.” The Girl’s face gets hot. Her eyes crease up and she throws herself forward, kicking at him. He laughs more, now at her futile attempts to do any damage. After a few seconds of this, he motions to some Dracs standing by the door. They grab her and hold her in place. She fights, but realizes very quickly that it won’t work and screams. She’s not sure how long she screams, but when she stops her head spins. Black spots dance behind her eyes and her throat is raw. She lets her head fall.  
“Are you done yet?” Korse lifts her head.   
“Fuck...you…” she croaks, her voice giving out.  
“Still going on that, are you?” Korse seems only a little annoyed. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time for you to eat.”  
The Girl almost throws up when the tube goes down. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt, cold against the inside of her throat, the feel of plastic alien in every way. She wants to claw at her neck, to rip herself open. Anything to get it out. She can’t, the Dracs are holding her still. She’s started sobbing by the time the tube comes out. Once it’s fully away from her she screams again, but it comes out weak and faint. Her voice won’t work at all anymore, and this time when she yanks herself away from the Dracs they let her go. She falls to the floor, sobbing silently. The Girl’s head spins. Everything around her spins with it and her vision’s fading. She slumps over more and the world around her goes black. 

***

Kaitlyn wakes to the sound of her alarm clock. It chirps when she hits the button.  
“Good morning, citizen. It is now time for you to prepare for your day.” She sits up, yawns, and nods.   
“Thank you.” It’s polite to be thankful.  
The alarm clock continues in the soft monotone from before, “Have you taken your medication?” Kaitlyn grabs the pill from her bedside table, takes it, and nods.   
“Yes, thank you.”   
“Have a Better day, citizen. Keep Smiling.” The light on the alarm clock goes off and she starts her daily routine. She needs to get to the corporate building on time for work.


End file.
